


Light Of The Sun

by UnderscoreMax



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Cute, Fluff, M/M, N'zoth is causing problems, Panic, rooves to annoy val and rai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:13:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26132467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderscoreMax/pseuds/UnderscoreMax
Summary: A cute picnic date and a bad dream
Relationships: Arator the Redeemer/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	Light Of The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> 1) i dont know what happened  
> 2) i found this ship,,,and they,,,i love them

In the light of the sun he seemed to shine brighter. Golden hair and golden eyes glowing in the setting summer sun. Freckles peaked out from behind pink cheeks, and everything was held in a moment that was warm and comforting. 

Arator's grin was mischievous as he turned to Anduin, bumping shoulders with the king. Anduin did the same back, smiling as the paladin got a little more focused, bumping back and forth, eventually knocking Anduin into the soft grass. Anduin let himself tip over, arms flopping out to the sides.

"Oh, I've been beaten," he wailed dramatically, watching as Arator shifted to lean over him, "What ever does my victor want?"

Arator smiled, such a warm look that Anduin nearly forgot how to breathe. He laid down next to the King, nestling his face into Anduin's neck.

"Just a moment with you, my King."

He was quiet for a second, running his fingers through the half-elf's hair, "Of course." His eyes slipped shut, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun, the soft grass beneath him, Arator next to him. His fingers rubbed at Arator's scalp, pulling a satisfied hum from the half-elf.

.

Somewhere along the line the sun must've set, and a cool, no, no that was rather cold, wind blew in. It seemed to be getting colder, uncomfortable humidity filled the air. Anduin's eyes snapped open, looking around. The sky was dark and full of swirling clouds. A purple and red light seemed to overshadow the entire city. Something was wrong. 

"Arator?" He shook his shoulder, "Arator, wake up, something's happening."

The half-elf stirred, sitting up carefully, scooting away just a bit. He turned to the city, head tilting to the side. Arator turned back to Anduin, looking him over curiously. 

Anduin reached his hand out slowly, cupping his cheek, "Your… Arator what happened." His no longer golden eyes swirled like the clouds above, far too dark, not anything like the paladin he knew. 

"Nothing you must worry about, my King," his voice was wrong, it didn't flow like usual, now deeper and gravelly. "All you must do is accept the whispers." 

Anduin pulled back, "No, I- no"

Arator moved forward, his shadowy eyes looking like they might spill over, "You must, it is the only way," He looked out over the city, the cathedral was crumbling, "Anduin, you see, you must accept the whispers, that's the only way to survive. He knows everything, he will protect you in ways the Light never could." 

Anduin shook his head, sweeping his eyes over the city below. Smoke rose from the rooves of the districts. A loud crashing pulled his attention, the top most spire had fallen from the cathedral.

Arator was pleading, desperate for Anduin to join him. "Please, you must, he will destroy any who stand in his way. The Light cannot help us now."

Anduin's eyes stayed trained on the cathedral, watching it fall apart, growing in shadows, breaking away from itself.

"No," he whispered, "no, nonono" 

Distantly he felt Arator grasp onto his arms. 

Something felt like it was clawing at his mind, deep whispers echoing in his ears. It burned. Stormwind was burning now. He was sick. He was gonna be sick. 

"Anduin, please." 

"-no no no no this cant, i cant, no-"

He was shaking. Arator was gripping his arms tighter now. He couldn't focus. He shut his eyes, a desperate attempt to shut it out. He could still smell smoke.

His city burned.

If he accepted, if he welcomed them, would he be safe? Would the citizens below be safe? Would he be able to protect his city.

The clawing whispers gained in strength. A drawn out "yess" echoed in his ears. 

"Anduin," Arator's voice seemed calmer, normal, but stern in a way he couldn't ignore, "look at me."

He peered out, squinting his eyes. The smoke faded, his eyes didn't burn. It was dark, but a cloudless night. And Arator, 

"Oh thank the Light"

Arator was golden, no longer swirling in dark shadows. He looked concerned, his hands still held onto Anduin, as if he was trying to steady him. 

Anduin leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the paladin's chest, pulling in an unsteady breath. Arator ran his fingers over the young King's back, feeling him relax under the motions.


End file.
